


Ghosts

by sigo



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Armitage Hux Lives, Armitage Hux is So Done, As fluffy as villains get, Bottom Kylo Ren, Canon Universe, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Force Ghost(s), Ghost Sex, Ghost biology???, Ghosts, Ghosts aren't as scary when benevolent Force ghosts are canon, Huxloween, Huxloween 2020, Kylo Ren Being a Little Shit, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker, This isn't scary like I wanted it to be?, Top Armitage Hux, happy halloween month here's some porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26806474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sigo/pseuds/sigo
Summary: For a time his sleep was dreamless. Hux opened his eyes, and the change in light through the sheer and billowing curtains told him a few hours had passed. It was the dead of night. A cold hand rested on his back between his shoulder blades, the palm rough and calloused. There was a weight behind him in bed, solid enough to dip the mattress. Hux hadn’t felt the man climb into bed with him. The hand moved, dipping down across his rips to his stomach and squeezing the scant softness there, fingertips moving over and into his navel in a way that made him jump. Hux sighed and stretched, the arch of his back pressing him into the body behind him.“Ren,” he said, his voice groggy. “Get out.”
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 181
Collections: Huxloween 2020





	Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> The dead speak! This was written because I wanted ghost sex and because MsModernity's tweet ab Hux going to Canto Bight after TROS lives rent-free in my brain.

The sparkling crystal of the chandeliers cast little glowing ghosts along the walls, floating over marble and velvet. Hux sipped his champagne, smiling at a joke he hadn’t listened to, winding an arm around the older woman beside him and reaching into her purse unnoticed. She just about melted against him, her blue skin flushing a pretty shade of purple. He removed a 1,000-credit chip from her bag and snuck it into his own pocket. He could take more, if he wanted. Canto Bight’s wealthiest were remarkably easy to rob. But it was better to take only a bit from each mark -- less noticeable. Virtually _un_ noticeable, if he stole mere thousands from his targets. They were, after all, the type to keep thousand-credit chips loose in their handbags. In time he’d need to move on from the planet entirely, not just from casino to casino. It would be unwise to remain in one place too long with the price the newly-rebirthed Republic put on his head. The people clamored for the blood of the Starkiller.

Hux kissed the woman’s cheek and moved on, giving her a distracted excuse about procuring another drink. He downed his champagne flute and put it on a waitstaff droid’s tray as he walked away, weaving through a sea of people in finery so outrageous it transformed them into beings he’d never seen the like of before. Hux could almost be mistaken for staff in his simple suit. It made him acutely uncomfortable, this excess. He skirted a man encrusted in enough gems to buy rations for Hux’s graduating class at the Arkanis Academy three times over. People ate beyond what they needed to sate their hunger, the foods rich enough to turn Hux’s stomach. People drank beyond what was needed to get well and truly blitzed, the sick in corners rapidly cleaned up by scuttling droids and woozy patrons ushered to their rooms. There was plenty that Hux would not miss about these palaces of gluttony.

It was Harvest time in the galactic standard calendar, and some of the casino’s rooms were lit up orange. All of the table displays were bursting with gourds, and the appetizer of the night was little shot glasses of a pumpkin soup. There was a pleasant chill on the air when Hux passed an open balcony. He avoided the orange rooms. He suspected that going blonde wasn’t enough to make him unrecognizable to these folk -- he had been the face of the First Order merely a year ago -- it was likely they just didn’t care. He’d personally lined their pockets for just as long as General Organa had. Still, no reason to be reckless. He stayed safely in the white and yellow rooms and under the silver light of the stars, where there would be no ginger cast to his hair.

He almost pulled the wallet off the man who offered him a smoke, then rethought it. He had enough credits. Undue risks weren’t like him. _If I’m still that man. No, I am. I am._ Really he should move on. His only hesitation was giving up the large and comfortable bed in his room upstairs. He was loath to move back into the cramped bunk in his ship. Maybe permanently — his next destination was Wild Space. The lure of that bed called, more seductive than any amount of credits or any pointless flattery he could gain from these mindless people, and Hux wandered toward the glistening gold lifts that would take him to solitude.

His door slid shut and locked. Hux pulled the bookshelf in front of it too. It would buy him a few seconds to prime his blaster should any of the hotel staff feel keen on cashing in a bounty. Canto Bight glittered beneath his balcony. Hux undressed and lit a new cigarra, smoking it in silence. When it was used up he stubbed it out on the rail and tossed the butt over the side before drawing the curtains. He left the balcony doors open. He missed the chill of space. The Harvest breeze was a suitable substitute on his bare skin. Hux crawled into bed without dressing in sleep clothes, feeling the silk sheets move across his skin, relishing the sensation. There were certain excesses he could get behind. Maybe he’d procure a silk robe before he left civilized space.

For a time his sleep was dreamless. He opened his eyes, and the change in light through the sheer and billowing curtains told him a few hours had passed. It was the dead of night. A familiar silhouette stood just beyond the curtains, on the balcony, looking at him. At first Hux could still see the distant points of the stars behind the man, _through him_ , and then he solidified. Hux blinked and he was gone. No, not gone. A cold hand rested on his back between his shoulder blades, the palm rough and calloused. There was a weight behind him in bed, solid enough to dip the mattress. Hux hadn’t felt the man climb into bed with him. He hadn’t needed to, he simply materialized there. Annoying.

The hand moved, dipping down across his rips to his stomach and squeezing the scant softness there, fingertips moving over and into his navel in a way that made him jump. Hux sighed and stretched, the arch of his back pressing him into the body behind him.

“Ren,” he said, his voice groggy. “Get out.”

“You’re moving on tomorrow,” Kylo said, not a question exactly. His infuriating habit of trespassing into Hux’s mind hadn’t dispersed with his death.

“Yes, and I’d prefer to get some sleep.”

“Lie.”

“I want the bed to myself.”

Kylo didn’t dispute that. It must be true. His hand dipped lower, icy but dry against Hux’s skin. He let out a startled sound that was almost a growl. “You _shaved?_ ”

“What’s the point in dyeing my hair if my pubes would give me away?” Hux asked, letting condescension flood his voice.

“No one’s seeing them,” Kylo said, and dug his nails into the tender flesh just above Hux’s cock until Hux gasped. Kylo’s other arm squirmed below Hux shoulders and scooped him up, rolling him over to face him.

“You’re dead,” Hux said, grinning despite himself. It did bring him a measure of joy to say it. “That is traditionally when bonds are dissolved, Ren. What do you care if I take someone to bed?”

“Mm. We were bonded?”

“Of course not.” Hux’s grin soured, his good humor transferring to Kylo like water running through cragged rock between two tide pools. Kylo flashed his crooked teeth in a smile that was more like a snarl in the dark of the room. He didn’t glow -- Hux might not have known that ghosts were _supposed_ to glow if Kylo hadn’t talked his ear off about it the first time he materialized beside Hux after Hux fled Exegol, singed but very much alive thanks to a blast vest. The onslaught of rambling theology had killed Hux’s initial fright and drove him quickly to frustration. Kylo had no silvery aura, but the shadows on his skin ran vaguely blue even under the fluorescent lights of Hux’s ship. They were very blue in the hotel room. He was paler than he’d been in life, literally bloodless, and his eyes were dark and glassy. The many roped scars on his body were more purple than pink now. He looked like a dead thing that would launch itself out from under a child’s bed in a horror holovid. A chill came off his skin. It was like laying naked in front of an open conservator. Anyone else -- _anyone sane_ , Hux’s brain reminded him -- would be feeling the opposite of arduous when faced with a ghastly apparition like this. Even if it was a past lover. The perversion of something once sweet would make a fainter heart seize. But of course Kylo had never been sweet, and neither had Hux, and he was quickly growing hard despite the chill.

_Here you are again. I should have known even your death wouldn’t rid me of you._

Kylo laughed softly. “Would you have scrapped your assassination plots?”

“Hmm...no. What would it take for you to go and torment someone else?”

“You love it,” Kylo’s grip tightened, bringing their chests flush. Hux’s nipples pebbled up. Kylo felt as solid as he’d ever been, but he’d also been a veritable furnace in life, heating the whole of Hux’s bed just by laying in it. “You’d miss me.”

Kissing was as new as the cold. Hux hadn’t permitted it before. Physical release was one thing, but he didn’t need his co-commander and then his Supreme Leader slobbering on him like a besotted schoolboy. Like they were _in love_. That was certainly what Kylo had taken it for, the first night he’d haunted Hux and Hux had allowed Kylo to capture his mouth.

 _I figured I’d have to die for you to confess, Hux. I’m very glad I’m awake to see it_ , he’d said. The kisses weren’t a confession, but Hux knew that Kylo wouldn’t be convinced of that, and so Hux had kissed him harder to shut him up.

Hux kissed him now for the same reason -- _shut up, Ren_ . Kylo’s hands tightened on his frame, his skin starting to seem pleasantly cool rather than cold. Perhaps Hux was warming him. Perhaps he was only getting used to it. Hux threw his leg over Kylo’s hip to get closer, pressing his erection against Kylo’s. His balls drew up tight in response to the chill. Kylo kissed the way Hux had always dreamed he would, probably because he plucked it right out of Hux’s mind, the _cheat_. Kylo would devour him if Hux didn’t meet his passion exactly, but Hux was capable. He pushed back against Kylo, keeping them in equilibrium, his mouth moving hot against Kylo’s cold lips. Kylo’s tongue was an icicle darting into Hux’s mouth. Except that it was soft. Hux sucked on it until Kylo made a rumbling noise in his chest. He tasted of ozone and minerals and something vaguely herbal. Something Hux remembered smelling in Kylo’s quarters in a past life.

Kylo pinched one of his nipples and Hux broke their kiss to move his hand up where he really wanted it. Kylo’s grip closed around his throat, his nail beds dark purple, no pulse in his wrist under Hux’s hand. This was what awaited someone like Kylo Ren. A sort of active permadeath instead of the shimmering permalife he’d described for his mother and uncle. Hux pushed the thought away -- he didn’t want a sermon tonight. 

“How do you want me?” Kylo asked, squeezing gently. Teasing. “You want me to fuck you?”

“As if you ever did,” Hux admonished him. Oh, he’d had Kylo inside him, of course. Quite the feat if Hux did say so himself. But, Hux had always been on top in the loosest sense of the word, riding Kylo, edging him. There had still been shame for a while, shame at the way he fucked himself on Kylo’s cock like his life depended on it, the need that he knew had been raw on his face, his skin going red all the way down his chest in exertion. Control pushed shame down. Hux couldn’t bring himself to let Kylo lead their dance. It was bad enough that Kylo could send him crashing into the nearest wall with a thought. There was no need to let a savage like him hold Hux down and set the pace. Kylo could take it if he wanted. He didn’t. Hux prided himself on that: that he was more valuable as an active participant.

Kylo leaned in and moved his hand so that he could nip at Hux’s throat, trailing spit-slick bites down to Hux’s shoulder and then his chest, rolling him back, pushing for this to change too. Hux gave him an inch by allowing the kissing and now he’d take a parsec. Hux slapped his chest, the sound just as solid as if Kylo were alive.

“On your back,” Hux said. For an instant Kylo didn’t relent, and then, like always, he did. Hux pounced, licking Kylo’s nipples one after the other, sucking them erect. Kylo moaned low, a sound Hux was accustomed to hearing. He never tired of it, of the mighty brought low under his tongue.

Kylo spread his legs willingly, wantonly. Hux reached toward the side table for the packets of cheap hotel lube that would be there, and Kylo coughed at him.

“No, don’t you dare. It’s weird,” Hux growled at him.

“Too late. Come on,” Kylo nearly whined.

Hux dipped his hand down between Kylo’s thighs, beneath Kylo’s straining and frankly absurd erection, and found his hole already slick.

“It’s not the turn-on you think it is,” Hux hissed. “This...this _ghost-slime_.”

“It’s efficient,” Kylo argued. “Surely you can appreciate that.”

Hux grabbed his ankles and pushed them up, folding him in half with his knees over Hux’s shoulders. He lined himself up and pushed in, grunting at the tight, cold grip. “Stars.”

“Ow, fuck! Could have done with a little more prep there, Hux—”

“You’re dead,” Hux shushed him.

“Come on, then. Think you can make the dead speak?”

“I can make them scream.” Hux set to it.

Kylo’s cock twitched against his belly with every thrust. Hux had never taken a liking to porn -- all the videos on the holonet cast men with his body type as squealing, desperate bottoms. Not that Hux couldn’t appreciate the showmanship, but he couldn’t relate. This, though, had always been better than any pornographic vid or even any wet dream: Kylo divested of his flowing robes and helmet, his muscled frame naked beneath Hux, his petulant mouth whining for more. Those dark eyes wide and almost disbelieving, and those plush lips slack. Pretty. He was pretty. And all Hux’s. Not even Snoke had possessed Kylo in this particular way. Hux was reasonably sure of it.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Kylo said, his voice a ruin.

“You know what I’m thinking.” Hux thrusted harder, deeper, making Kylo cry out.

“Want to... _fuck_...want to hear it...unh.”

“You’re pathetic, Ren. You’d beg for domination if I made you. It’s a mercy not to, a mercy I shouldn’t have shown you…” Hux paused, closing his eyes against the urge to come when Kylo clenched around him. The unutterable cold of his body — if this was a body, and Hux supposed it didn’t qualify — helped in that arena. “You need it, don’t you? Big scary Sith Lord who doesn’t know who he is without a cock stretching his asshole.”

“Not a Sith,” Kylo protested, no anger in his voice. Only desire.

“No. You’re not anything now, are you? You’re just dead.”

“Hux I’m going to—”

“What? Spray my sheets with ectoplasm?”

“I will if you don’t watch your mouth—fuck, _Hux please_ —”

“You can’t even threaten me without begging right now,” Hux snapped, but then relented, pummeling Kylo down into the mattress. The bed frame squeaked with every thrust.

Kylo pulled him down, trying for another kiss as climax approached. Hux had slapped him for the same indiscretion before. Once, he thought it had been the slap more than the fucking that had made Kylo come. Hux didn’t fight it this time. He bent over Kylo’s prone body and kissed him, sucking on his lower lip and licking into his cold mouth.

 _Wanted you the second I saw you_ , Kylo thought, putting the words directly into Hux’s brain. _If you’d let me I’d have fucked you that night, or sooner. Bent you over the table in the conference room_.

Kylo had never bent Hux over any table anywhere, not for a lack of trying in the early days. The image seared itself into Hux’s mind and he came, moaning. He’d be embarrassed, but they were past that now. And the idea was good — really good. Kylo might be inexperienced (Hux suspected he hadn’t fucked anyone else since their first coupling, Kylo was sentimental like that). Hux hadn’t fucked anyone else either; he was a busy man. Or had been. But Kylo knew how to fuck because Hux taught him. Hux had molded Kylo’s sexuality to his liking — hot and hard and rough. The idea of being on the receiving end of that sent him over the edge. He broke off their kiss, breathing hard.

“Fuck, Hux oh stars Hux,” Kylo babbled.

Hux buried himself all the way to the hilt in the wet chill of whatever remained of Kylo in the galaxy. Kylo pressed kisses against his jaw and Hux realized that one of them was crying. He couldn’t tell who. Hux reached between them to fist Kylo’s cock in his hand and stroke it as he rocked himself through his aftershocks. Kylo shouted when he came, clenching around Hux in a way that made sluggish heat spark in Hux’s belly despite his just-finished orgasm. Kylo’s breath was cold on his neck. Hux wanted a hot shower. He wondered if Kylo was too spent to join him. Did ghosts sleep? Did Kylo sleep when Hux did?

“Death becomes you.” Hux said, pulling out with a very real squelch. “You don’t wreck the room this way.” He’d submitted more maintenance requests than any man should in their time on the _Finalizer_. Kylo had been particularly prone to shattering the lights in his ecstasy.

Kylo laughed, looking languid. Well-fucked. “Takes a lot of concentration to do this,” he said. The semen painting his stomach in thick ropes had a distinctly blue cast and Hux thought it wasn’t just the night-gloom. He watched as it seemed to sink in to Kylo’s pale skin and then disappeared entirely. “Take your shower.”

Hux flopped bonelessly next to him. “It’d be worse after. You’d feel like a block of ice.”

“Does that mean you want to cuddle?”

“Fuck off.”

Kylo pressed himself against Hux’s back, carefully arranging the sheet between them to keep his skin off Hux’s directly. His breath was still cold on the back of Hux’s neck. He placed a kiss there. Hux pulled Kylo’s arm around him.

“I miss the red hair,” Kylo said.

“I don’t miss you at all,” Hux told him mildly. “It’s a marked improvement in every area, this.”

Kylo nuzzled his dead face into the nape of Hux’s neck and Hux felt him smile. When morning came he was gone, as was their pattern. The mirror showed a large handprint when Hux’s shower steamed it up. Hux packed his bags, boarded his ship, and thought about death.

Kylo said once that Force-nulls don’t remain as a part of the living Force after passing. In most ways that was a relief. But it _did_ mean their time was limited. And if Hux let Kylo take charge now it couldn’t possibly be construed as giving up any measure of authority. The First Order was decimated, and the man was dead. It was no longer an undue risk. Hux thought he heard a low chuckle behind him as he guided his ship out of Canto Bight’s atmosphere.

“You just have your laugh,” Hux quipped, running his fingers absently over the blaster scar on his chest. “I won.”

He felt a cold kiss on his cheek.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't love this but here it is. I wanted spook?? But is fluff?? Promise to dial up the scares if I crank another Huxloween prompt out. Nobody tell Hux that being Force-null doesn't exempt him from Force Hell after he used a kyber planet to blow up the Hosnian system.


End file.
